


Shadowboxing

by Orphelin



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Post-Possession, kinda introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 23:11:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17990273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orphelin/pseuds/Orphelin
Summary: There’s something sinister in the air, and Waverly can almost taste it, feeling the bitter taste fill her mouth once more, reminding her of the weeks wasted under the demon’s grasp. They’re all careful with her, no more than Nicole, sweet, attentive Nicole, who treats her with utmost care, as if she’s going to break, refusing to push.





	Shadowboxing

There’s something sinister in the air, and Waverly can almost taste it, feeling the bitter taste fill her mouth once more, reminding her of the weeks waster under the demon’s grasp. They’re all careful with her, no more than Nicole, sweet, attentive Nicole, who treats her with utmost care, as if she’s going to break, refusing to push.

What Waverly needs is for her to push. She needs her to demand answers, to force her to talk about her possession, to give her an outlet. Instead, Nicole tries to pretend that it never happened. She doesn’t probe, doesn’t even touch her in the way she needs her to. No, she’s all soft, fleeting touches, and even gentler kisses when Waverly manages to bring them together.

One of the things Mictian used to taunt her with is that Nicole would just get fed up with the oddities surrounding Purgatory, surrounding her, and leave as soon as she’s able to. It chalked up her presence to a sense of responsibility towards Nedley, but she could not trust the demon.

Now, though? When Nicole barely touches her, seemingly keeping distance? She’s starting to think it was right all along. It even tried to twist the day they finally joined, finally become one into Waverly throwing herself at Nicole, trying to keep her there with her body. 

Wynonna tries to keep her distracted with new cases for her to research, new revenants that need to be found, but seems to realize that her heart isn’t in it, not anymore. She jokes more, trying to get her out of her pensive mood, but even then, she doesn’t push any boundaries, highly unusual for Wynonna. 

She can take Nicole treating her as if she were made of glass, but her own sister? Her sister who shoots first and thinks after? It all seems too suspicious. Might the two have had a meeting? An alcohol filled encounter, fueled by their mutual desire to protect her, even when she doesn’t need it?

The world is slowly being reduced to her own little corner in her room, lit by a single candle and with pages upon pages of local history taking up residence on her desk. If Nicole wishes to avoid her, she would best respect her wishes, no matter how much her absence hurts her. It’s the least she can do, after all, with her possession seemingly putting a permanent mark on her relationships with the people that matter to her the most. 

Sometimes, she hears the demon in her ear again, whispering in things she’s too afraid to consider. That Nicole is sick of her, and is trying to find a way to extinguish their connection with distance. That Jeremy is afraid of her, and can’t stand being alone with her in the room. That Dolls, brave, strong Dolls, thinks of her as a liability to the team, one of them who caused more trouble with her curiosity and single handedly almost doomed them all.

When she sees Nicole smiling at Beth Miller a little too brightly, she feels dread settling in her stomach, much more potent than when the demon was in charge. Unlike the moment when the demon was in charge, forcing her to break the rule they agreed on, she simply swallows her words, her need to kiss her, and walks away.  
Wynonna, bless her heart, does the talking for her, dragging Nicole away from the overly friendly waitress. 

Wiping her hands on her pants, she swallows the nerves that threaten to drown her, and checks on the pie baking in the oven. Vegan apple pie, Nicole’s favorite, is waiting for her.

Her girlfriend should have been there some time ago, but a work emergency has kept her on the streets a little longer.

She can’t hide her gasp when Nicole walks in, sporting a bruise on her left eye.  
“Baby, what happened?”

Nicole shrugs, taking her jacket off. “Some punk I was arresting was too rowdy, managed to elbow me. Nothing that proper training can’t beat though, he’s sleeping off a nasty hangover in the drunk tank, with battery charges waiting for him.”

“My poor, brave, baby.” She murmurs, immediately taking note of how the word choice affects the redhead, whose features constrict for a moment, before relaxing. She then remembers the last time she’d uttered the same words, and feels bile rising in her throat. 

“Is that apple pie I smell?” she asks, looking around in order to locate the source of the smell.

Waverly nods, hands immediately going towards the oven in order to take it out. 

When they’re seated at the small table in Nicole’s kitchen, the air is vibrating with tension, silence so thick Waverly can feel it building a wall between them.  
Nicole is talking though, about her day, little nonsensical things either of them cares little about, doing her best to negate the situation. 

And yet, Waverly feels sick yet again. The veil of cheeriness she wears is slowly slipping, with every word that leaves Nicole’s mouth. She’s talking without saying anything and Waverly’s had enough. She’s been patient for weeks, giving her space, but just how much longer must she wait before they have an honest conversation? They can’t solve it by being silent and hoping it will pass; they should have learned at least that much during their relationship.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” she demands, a gust of bravery helping her get the words out.

Mouth full of apple pie, Nicole stops mid-bite and stares at her blankly before swallowing. “I am talking to you, what do you mean, baby?”

Finally, after days, she’s calling her ‘baby’ and for what? Worst of all, she’s trying to end their conversation before it even begins, all too reminiscent of ways Champ would always try to shut her up with sex.

“You know damn well what I mean, Nicole. We haven’t really talked since you guys took care of Mictian.”

“I just didn’t want to assume you were comfortable talking about it with me. “ she defends, hands dropping to her sides in an unthreatening manner.

“Don’t try to convince me you actually think that, Nicole. I’ve laid out almost every single one of my insecurities at your feet, without you even having to ask before. What changed now?”

The way Nicole looks at her, aglow in heartbreak, causes her to do a double take. “Everything.”

“Nicole...”she prompts, “What did I do for you to feel that way?”

“You didn’t do a single thing. The thing, Mictian, when it was in Wynonna’s body, told me that you wanted space. That I was pressuring you into fitting a mold you don’t fit in.”

The cursed demon, she thinks, keeps haunting her even from the fiery depths of hell. “Baby, that thing wanted to make you avoid me, it knew you were the only one I could be strong enough to fight it off around. “

“ I was?” she asks, in a way that is heartbreakingly earnest, seeking reassurance that Waverly is too happy to give her.

“Of course, “ Waverly smiles, linking their hands together, squeezing hard. “It knew I ached for your presence all the time, and made every effort to drive you away from me, and for that, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t enough.”

“Are you sure I’m not being too controlling? I don’t want you to feel like you have to pretend around me or do things for my benefit.”

“Absolutely,” she says, a smile inching over her lips. “Now, do you want some wine with the apple pie? I know you like to drink some after work.”

“You know what, Waves? Absolutely.”


End file.
